


Ascension

by eternalEnigma



Series: The Spellstone Chronicles [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, and he's going to do it well this time fAY, death mention, fuck if i know, uhh, vexen's a mentor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 17:49:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12438327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalEnigma/pseuds/eternalEnigma
Summary: When a mage dies, it is up to one of those remaining to help their successor ascend. This time, it's Vexen's turn.





	Ascension

Despite the vast distance between them, Vexen knows the very moment his old friend dies.  


It wasn't unexpected at all; he has already said his goodbyes, and he knows he can take the time to mourn when his job is done.

So when he sees the moment he's been waiting for--the moment her power moves on--he doesn't take more than a second to bow his head in remembrance. He can better honor her by fulfilling the task she gave him.

The boy walking ahead of him is still young, by their standards. He's a good few years younger than the previous youngest was when _she_ ascended, but it's clear from that first moment that even now he is worthy. Because while he stops dead and almost immediately begins to shiver violently, that in itself is an admirably small reaction to the rush of pure magic he would have felt.

But even so, Vexen knows that his strength will not last long. No one's does, not this early.

He strides forward to match pace with the fledgling; he's stubbornly continued on his way, though his weakness is plain to anyone that looks.

"It feels as though there's fire coursing through your veins. But also as though there's nothing limiting you anymore."

The first part is not a guess; the second is only partially.  


The boy nods, hesitating for only a moment.

"Would you believe me if I said I could help you assuage that pain?"

He hesitates again, longer this time, but finally he says, soft and weak: "Perhaps. But first, would you mind telling me who you are?"

"I am Vexen." He says, quite simply, and the boy must recognize him now, for his only response is a quick nod.

"Then, child. Come with me."

He turns, and enters the forest.

He knows full well it might look suspicious to any passing humans, but the fledgling no doubt _knows_ that he is trustworthy. Sensing kindred spirits is easiest when the power first manifests. And besides, the recognition in his eyes must mean that Fay told him of what was to come.

They move in silent tandem, Vexen slowing his pace so the fledgling can keep up, though the fledgling still pushes himself to move faster than he should, and finally they reach the clearing. Stones of varying appearances lie scattered across the ground, each unique in size or shape, color or pattern; each unique in strength and finesse.

"There is a stone here that is meant for you. It will call to you."

There are places like this everywhere, spots where reality wears thin enough for the space-bender among them to create a permanent rift between them and the sacred place where the stones really are.

Hunched over in pain, the boy closes his eyes and waits.  


A long few minutes pass as he lets the barely contained magic within him feel for something that fits, and it's more than clear when he finally determines which one is _his_.

The boy kneels, less gracefully than he might have normally, and reaches out with his eyes still closed to lay his hands on a smooth palm-sized stone. Its snowflake patches glow in response, and he gasps, eyes flickering open and shining a vivid azure as his powers begin to stabilize. 

When, more by instinct than anything, he at last fulfills the first task of many to come, he sighs softly and slumps forward, only half-conscious in his exhaustion. Vexen kneels beside him and briefly rests a hand on his back, purposefully causing the little jolt of two separate magics brushing, and again the fledgling gasps.

He looks up, albeit a little woozily, and shadows begin to coalesce behind him. It only takes a moment for them to resolve into a more solid shape-- _wings_ , and fully formed, at that.

His have the same slight incorporeality as Xaldin's, the edges of his feathers blurred and wispy; when he shifts, what looked at first like plain black gleams with deep indigo, and laced across his feathers is a stark white pattern not unlike the loops and crests of someone's handwriting.

Even drooping with fatigue as they are now, his wings are magnificent. And fully summoning them this early.... He truly does have the potential Fay wanted in her successor.

"A new mage joins our ranks." Vexen murmurs. "May your flame burn long and bright."

The fledgling--the new mage of illusion--takes a deep breath and lets it out, slow and measured, a tactic to restore his focus. "Now that I am no longer in pain, would you like to explain what just happened?"  


He sits up straight now, though he seems beyond unsure of what to do with his wings; he spends a moment shifting in place, probably less inconspicuously than he intends. Eventually he stills, settling for drawing them up awkwardly high so they don't brush the ground, and then Vexen answers him.

"There is a small group of people scattered across the world. Each harbors the vast majority of their given type of magic. I, for instance, am the mage of ice--" as emphasis, his own glacier-blue wings unfurl, ice crystals creeping up his neck to line his jaw and down his arms to adorn his hands-- "and you are the newest mage of illusion. Perhaps you recall being visited by your predecessor. She told me that she informed you of the basics."

The fledgling thinks for a moment, and then he nods. "Yes, I recall. Fay. She told _me_ that I was soon to inherit her magic, and that you would be here to assist me--in return for her assisting _you_ , I believe."

"Precisely. Is that all she said?"

 _If I have to explain it_ all _to this boy, Fay_ \--

"I'm afraid so." Inquisitively, he tilts his head to the side, bangs shifting to expose his entire face for the first time. "Is that a problem?"

Vexen sighs deeply, and resigns himself to the task. "She was supposed to tell you more. Regardless, I can explain to you what you need to know. For starters, the pain was due to the fact that the human body is simply too fragile to withstand the entirety of the magic that is supposed to be under your control, especially when it's received all at once. That is why one must be helped through the process of ascending."

The fledgling considers that, and asks, "So, then. If you hadn't been there to help, would I still have...ascended? Or does the process _require_ the presence of an elder mage?"  


"You still would have, for a time." He pauses for a second, wondering how to phrase the rest, and settles for putting it bluntly. "But without the knowledge needed to find your stone, the magic would have overwhelmed you within the day. While you would have had some manner of control over it, it wouldn't be enough to keep it wholly contained. In such a situation, I imagine your power would cause mass chaos, and the exertion of it all would most likely kill you. Such a thing has only happened a handful of times, and I believe only one of those fledglings survived."

His only response at first is a soft _ah_ , and then finally he says, "Well, then. I suppose I should thank you for saving my life."

"No need. It's merely what needed to be done." Despite brushing it off, Vexen looks almost smug for a moment, but then he grows serious again. "So, then, before we continue. Tell me: who are you?"

The fledgling responds almost without thinking. He must truly know himself.

"I am Zexion, Mage of Wit and Illusion."  



End file.
